


Blueberry Pie

by WiltingRain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Missing Persons, One Shot, Sad Dean Winchester, Sad with a Happy Ending, There's Pie involved, There's an OC but I swear she's not the focus nor is she a love interest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 08:18:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4912123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiltingRain/pseuds/WiltingRain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a man on the bus. Normally she wouldn't notice, but this man is new; different. He looks...familiar. Sharp minded and kind, yet like he could snap your neck in a second and not look back. He also looks desolate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blueberry Pie

**Author's Note:**

> Yay a one shot. I have currently forbidden myself from starting new stories that aren't one shots because I have a horribly tendency to not go back and continue them. I'm awful. Hopefully I will go back and edit/add more to Jumpstart but I'm also a lazy human being that can only write semi-decent stuff when inspiration hits. Kind of like Chuck. But less alcohol. Unfortunately. Anyway, It's kind of weird and not a usual writing form as far as this pairing, but I'm pretty pleased with it. It's also short. Whoops.
> 
> Anyway, obviously during Cas's time at the Gas'n Sip he wasn't called Castiel, he was Steve, I know that, but for the sake of the story, he went by Cas. I'm a cheater and I have no shame. 
> 
> If there are any mistakes, please let me know. I am currently my own beta reader, and for those of you fellow writers, you know that doesn't always necessarily work out well in the end.

There’s a man on the bus. Normally she wouldn’t notice, but this man is new, different. He looks... _familiar_. Sharp minded and kind, yet like he could snap your neck in a second and not look back. He also looks desolate. He sits across from her, and looks at his hands as if they are holding something that was lost long ago. He doesn’t look up, even when she boards the bus again to go home.

x.x.x.x.x.x

When she gets on the bus again the next day, the man is still there. He either boards before her, or he hasn’t left from last night. He isn’t looking at his hands today, though. Today he is holding an amulet, horned and looking like something out of a Buddhist colony. He rubs at it with the pad of his thumb, as if for comfort. Somehow, she almost wishes he was looking at his hands again.

x.x.x.xx.x.x

He's there again, across from her. It’s been a week, and he’s switched between the mournful stares at his hands and the sorrowed and anguished looks at the amulet. Today he does neither. Today, he looks at her, and flinches. She tilts her head.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, and she strains to hear him. “Thought you were...someone else.” She gives him a small smile, nodding once.

“It’s alright.” She pauses, watching him avoid her gaze. “I’m Jane.” It’s quiet for another moment, but the man looks up at her, and manages not to shy away.

“Dean.” He murmurs. _Dean_. She thinks. _What have you seen,_ _that you’re so sad?_

x.x.x.x.x

Dean doesn’t talk to her for a while after that day, but he does nod to her when she enters and leaves the bus. She still hasn’t figured out if he ever leaves the bus. She figures he must get off at some point for food and to use the bathroom, because while the bus runs 24/7, it doesn’t have sustenance or facilities. Almost a week to the day since they spoke, a man boards the bus, and Dean is instantly on guard. But the man, a shorter, plumper man that reminds Jane of her father, doesn’t shy away. Instead, he sits next to Dean.

“You know, boy, you haven’t been easy to find.” Jane feels rude, listening in, but she wants to know more about this man; this man who was aching and broken and sad.

“I know, Bobby. That was the point.” The older man, Bobby, sighs. He adjusts his cap, brushing his shoulder against Dean.

“You’re gonna have to come back at some point. You flew off like that, don’t answer your phone....You’ve got Sam in a tizzy, ya idjit.” Dean flinches at the mention of this ‘Sam’ person. _Maybe his girlfriend? Sister?_

“Is Sam...is he okay?”

 _Okay, maybe his brother?_ _Or boyfriend_.

“As well as he can be.” Bobby sighs again. “Look Dean, I get what happened was...hard. He was your best friend, hell, maybe he was more than that to you..but you can’t let that stop you. You still have me and your brother, and even that useless Crowley. I know you miss--”

“ _Don’t_.” Dean hisses, a warning. “Don’t...don’t do that to me, Bobby. You know he wasn’t just my best friend. He was...hell, Bobby, we were talking about settling down.” He huffs a breath, pained and filled with sorrow. Bobby stays silent at first, face bordering on pity that Jane knows Dean doesn’t want.

“Alright.” He says, then, defeated and sad. “Alright, Dean. You know where to find us when you’re ready.” The bus stops. Bobby leaves, and Jane nearly misses her stop, rushing out after the man. She’s ready to head up the block when the man grabs her arm. She squirms a little, tugging her hand out of his grip.

“Look, I saw you eavesdropping.” Jane fidgets, looking down in shame and embarrassment. “Whatever, that’s what happens when you have conversations on public busses.” Bobby snorts, still looking sad and slumped. “Alright, listen. I know this is big to ask a stranger, but...” He pauses, glancing back at the bus, which is now two blocks down the road. “Keep an eye on him. If things get bad, call this number, alright?” Bobby pulls out a card, his name and number printed neatly. Jane nods, and while he’s right, it is odd to ask a stranger, she can’t help but feel bad for Dean. He obviously was struggling with something tragic, and she wanted nothing more than to help.

“Okay. Okay, yeah I can do that.” She smiles at him, small yet hopeful. “He...he hasn’t had it easy, has he?” Bobby chuckles sadly, returning her smile with one of his own, still drooping and wilted at the edges.

“No. No he hasn’t.”

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

She brings with a blueberry pie on the bus today. She has no idea if the guy even likes pie, or if he’s vegan or allergic, but she figures it’s the thought that counts. When her stop comes up, she drops the box gently in Dean’s lap.

“It’s not poisoned or anything. I just..You looked like you could use something sweet.” She smiles, soft. Jane turns and exits before Dean can say anything in return. She has a bounce in her step the rest of the day. When she returns to the bus, the box on his lap is gone, but he looks a little better, a little happier than the weeks before.

“Thank you,” Dean says. “For the pie. ‘S my favorite.” He grins at her, something if not a little forced, but gracious anyway. She smiles back. When she stands to exit, exhausted from the day and aching for her bed, Dean nods to her, sending her off with a, “Apple’s my favorite.”

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Jane brings him pie twice a week.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

It’s been a month, and Jane doesn’t know what Dean does with his free time. Does he go to work in the mornings?  Where does he get on?  Where does he get off?

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

There’s another man on the bus when she gets on today. It was one of the days she brought pie, Tuesday, but Dean isn’t there. Instead, there’s a man with long hair, and even longer legs. He’s sitting where Dean normally does, looking around the other passengers. Looking for someone.

“Are...are you looking for Dean?” She braves, voice soft and a little frightened. The man instantly has his eyes trained on her, wide and open and worried.

“You know him? You know my brother?”

 _Ah._ She thinks. _He must be Sam_.

She voices such aloud, and the man nods vigorously.

“Yeah, Yeah I’m Sam. Have you...He normally rides this bus, right? Bobby said this is where he found him last time.”

“Yes.” Jane almost feels bad, for telling Sam, but Dean wasn’t looking any better than the days he had first arrived. He needed to see his family. “He gets on the first stop, I think. He might not have come on today because he saw you. Try coming on at Bradfield. That’s the stop before mine.”

His eyes look on the verge of tears, happy yet sorrowful all at once. He chokes out a “Thanks,” and gets off at the next stop.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

When she gets on the next day, Dean is curled into Sam’s side, and she’s pretty sure those are sobs wracking his body. She hears broken words, calling, begging for someone-- _Cas_ \--to come back. She knows by now Dean isn’t the type to want pity, but she can’t help it. Judging by the look on Sam’s face, he can’t either. She places the pie she didn’t give him yesterday next to him, nodding to Sam. He smiles at her sadly, and nods back. He’ll be okay.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Sam’s not there the next day, but Dean has a little color back in his cheeks, and he’s carrying a box. The moment she gets on, he looks at her, and he smiles. It’s still a little sad, frayed at the edges, but it’s genuine. He hands her the small box, and she blushes.

“I wanted to thank you. You’ve been really great to me.”

“If being great is bringing you pie two days a week.” She snorts, but smiles and accepts the gift.

“It is.” He insists. “And I know it was you who clued Sam in.” Jane ducks her head at that.

“I’m sorry, you just looked--”

“No, don’t apologize. You did the right thing. I needed it.” Dean admits, scratching at his neck. “I’m..I’m leaving, today. Sam’s gonna meet me at the apartment I’ve been staying at later and we’re gonna head home, but I figured I owe you at least a little bit of an explanation.” She’s curious, but Jane doesn’t want to be rude.

“I--you don’t have to--”

“No, really Jane. I figured after dealing with my moping you at least can know what it was about.” He grins again, pained. “I...I lost someone dear to me. Someone I thought I was going to settle down with, have a home with.” He pauses. “Growing up...growing up, me and Sam moved around a lot. Our mom died when we were young, so our Dad moved us from place to place, job to job. After he died...things didn’t really change much. Sam went to college for awhile, but eventually it was him and me on the road again, seeing the world, doing odd jobs. Mostly we stayed with Bobby.” Dean stops again, catching his breath, gathering his thoughts. “Then....then I met Cas. He traveled with us on and off, and somewhere...somewhere along the way, we fell in love.” Jane can’t help it, but she smiles at Dean. His face when he talks about Cas is something to behold, joyous and happy, yet reverent and hopeful.

“We had been...together...for a few years. It would have been seven, this coming September. But he...he got in an accident. His...job...was dangerous, and he had to deal with bad people. It..he went missing.” Dean looks ready to kill or cry, Jane can’t decide which, but she decides she doesn’t like it, whichever it is. His smile is what should be on his face. “You know...you know the rest of it, mostly. We searched for a while...almost a year...then I got on the bus and I moped. I moped until Sammy came and got me, but. At least....at least you know why.” He finishes. Dean looks tired still, and sad, but _better_. He looks like he’s healing, Jane decides.

“Can I ask one question?” She says before she can stop herself. _Fuck I’m such a jackass_. Dean nods. “Why this bus?” Dean--Dean pauses at that. The small smile that had harbored on his face fell, and his shoulders hunched once more.

“This...this is the bus Cas used to take to get to the suburbs. He..he actually took the same route you do.” Suddenly, Jane knows why he looked familiar the first day he met him. Her eyes are wide, so wide she thinks they’ll pop.

“You’re Dean.” She says like a secret, a whisper. “You’re _the_ Dean. Dean Winchester.” He startles, shock recoiling into him.

“Excuse me?” Dean says, and it sounds dangerous.

“No--no. How did I not realize...Cas...it’s short for Castiel, right? The Castiel that worked at the Gas'n Sip? You’re right, he rode the same route as me everyday for a week or two. Trench coat, messy black hair?”

“You know Cas? But how did you know my name?”

“He used to tell me about you, had a picture of you. I never got a good look at it so I didn’t realize it was you, but it is.” Jane is excited now, practically jumping out of her seat.

“Do you know where he is? Where he went?”

“I...” She stops, trying to think. “He talked a lot about a friend named Jimmy something or other...He said something about visiting him in....somewhere in Illinois.” She frowned. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember--”

“Pontiac.” Dean supplies. “Pontiac, Illinois.”

“Yeah! Said he owns a big ol’ barn up there. Where you two first met.” Jane blushes again. “Did you really stab him?”

“Uh...yeah, actually.” She giggles, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Wow. That’s true romance if I ever heard it.” He wrinkles his nose, glancing at a silver ring on his index finger.

“Yeah.” Dean says softly. “Thank you Jane.” He says, standing. He smiles again this time, wide and unburdened, hopeful even. “You’ve been a huge help.”

She opens her mouth to reply, but he’s already racing down the steps of the bus toward the street, hailing a cab. “Good luck.” She whispers under her breath instead. It’s then that Jane remembers the box in her lap. Looking at it curiously, she removes the lid. She smiles. _‘Thought I should return the favor. Something tells me you’d enjoy this. -D’_ Finding the fork tucked on the side, she pulls it out and stabs it into the pie. Her grin widens. _Blueberry,_ she thinks. _My favorite_.

 

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x


End file.
